


On a Particular Snowy Evening

by ReverberatingEchoes



Series: On a Particular Snowy Evening [1]
Category: Servamp (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Childhood Memories, First Love, Flowershop Owner! Mahiru, Fluff, M/M, Reminiscence, Young Master! Kuro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-03 15:02:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13343691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReverberatingEchoes/pseuds/ReverberatingEchoes
Summary: Kuro tries his best to preserve the unfamiliar, pleasant feeling in his chest and soon realizes that all he has to do is to think of the child and his scarf and the red flower on his palm and the feeling will return to him, washing over his entire being the way Kuro thinks an embrace from someone dear to him would.Or,On a particular snowy evening, Young Master Kuro reminisces about his childhood and his brief encounter with the flower seller in town and the many unfamiliar feelings he came to associate with the brown-eyed boy.





	On a Particular Snowy Evening

**Author's Note:**

  * For [orangescribbles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangescribbles/gifts).



> \- This is an AU set loosely in historical Japan, I apologize for any possible historical inaccuracies and any liberties I may take with regard to the setting and everything else.
> 
> \- Kuro is human in this AU. Please note the possible alterations to his personality!
> 
> \- This Young Master x Flowershop Owner! AU is the brainchild of the ever-amazing OrangeScribbles. Bless her for existing, also please do check out her works! She made me fall in love with Servamp because of her beautiful prose! 
> 
> \- This fic is half self-indulgent, half something written to relieve stress. Cross-posted on Tumblr too, under ReverberatingWhispers.
> 
> \- This is Kuro reminiscing about his first love, this low-key sentimental child. 
> 
> \- I own nothing. KuroMahi is life and love. Servamp is Tanaka-sensei's masterpiece. 
> 
> \- Please enjoy!

 

* * *

 

 

The first greetings of snow.

 

 

Kuro idly gazes as small pinpricks of white begin to fall over the grass in his family's garden. The snow takes its time, falling layer by layer, almost languid in its journey. Kuro is certain, however, that when morning comes, he will be unable to leave the compound without the servants shoveling the snow away.

 

 

The night is quiet. It always is, during winter. While Kuro does not have a profound love for the cold, a part of him looks forward to the passing of seasons. Impatiently, he waits and waits, until fall metamorphoses into winter and finally, he gets to watch the first night of snow.

 

 

(Kuro likes winter only because people do not question him when he gets (far too) lost in his thoughts. People turn reflective in the silence of winter nights and Kuro, the young master of an affluent family, indulges himself in his own reflections as well.

 

 

Winter nights make him nostalgic. Almost sentimental.

 

 

It's always during solitary winter nights that Kuro allows himself to remember.)

 

 

\--

 

 

Kuro is ten and it is a cold, cold night and Kuro sincerely wishes he dressed up a bit warmer than just his formal kimono, but ultimately, he's pleased that Kazuhiko, his personal caretaker, has lost him in the crowd.

 

 

(It's not often that Kuro is allowed to leave the premises of his family's compound but in the rare moments that he is allowed to do so, he makes the most out of it, namely running away from whoever is unfortunate enough to be assigned to watch over him for the night. Kuro runs to taste the limited freedom offered to him by this momentary reprieve.

 

 

Here, he is not the young master Kuro, the heir apparent of an affluent family in Edo.

 

 

Here, lost in the crowd and walking leisurely, he is only Kuro, a young child with a certain brand of curiosity towards the ways of the world, the world that he is not allowed to experience without strict supervision.

 

 

Freedom is Kuro's favorite treat, one he is rarely allowed to indulge in.)

 

 

Kuro shivers a bit, despite the many layers his formal kimono, but he treads on, determined to enjoy his time-bound liberty. Kazuhiko is no stranger to Kuro's disappearing acts and Kuro is certain that the servant is only taking pity on his young master and as such allows him to wander off on his own for a certain amount of time before Kazuhiko will come to fetch him.

 

 

Well, no matter.

 

 

The streets are crowded and busy and Kuro cannot help but stare at the lantern lights decorating the town he lives in (though even now, Kuro still feels like a foreigner in his own hometown). The soft red hue coming from the lanterns make the scene before him almost surreal, like something one would see in a particularly peculiar painting where every glance at the painting would reward one with a new detail one is certain to have missed before.

 

 

And perhaps this is why it takes Kuro a while to notice the brown-haired boy, only a little younger than him, who gazes at him with a worried expression. His brown eyes are warm, Kuro thinks, as warm as the heat emanating from the lanterns and perhaps as warm as the red, red color of the flowers decorating the inside of the box the young boy is holding.

 

 

Kuro tilts his head a bit, and wonders to himself how such flowers continue to survive in winter.

 

 

The young boy approaches him slowly and Kuro waits, wanting to see what the child will do.

 

 

The child stops in front of him and his eyes flutter to Kuro's face. Without saying a word, the child places the box of red flowers to the side of the street (Kuro's eyes follow the flowers because they're so pretty and red and _alive_ ) and pulls out what looks to be a well-loved grey scarf from the drawstring bag hanging from his arm.

 

 

Kuro's eyes snap back to the child, waiting, wondering. The child smiles up at him, gentle as he wraps the scarf around Kuro's neck. Kuro absently touches the soft material of the scarf and looks questioningly at the other boy.

 

 

(There's a foreign feeling in Kuro's heart, one he has no name for. It is not an unpleasant feeling, but it's a feeling Kuro is sorely unfamiliar with.)

 

 

"You look like you're really, really cold," The child tells him, voice soft and expression even softer. "That scarf is Mother's, but I'm sure she'll be alright if you have it, if it can keep you warm from the snow."

 

 

The child steps back a bit and moves to pick up the box of flowers on the ground.

 

 

The child looks at him and says in what Kuro thinks is a parting, "You should get back soon, your parents might be worried about you. You don't look too used to the cold either so it will be better if you head back home."

 

 

The brown eyed boy slowly turns away but Kuro doesn't want him to go yet.

 

 

(Kuro feels as if that the unknown feeling in his chest will disappear the moment that the child walks away from him. For some reason, Kuro wants to cling to this feeling, wants the feeling to stay-)

 

 

Kuro can't seem to find his voice so instead, he lightly grabs the wrist of the child.

 

 

The child looks at him questioningly but waits for him, patient and polite.

 

 

Kuro doesn't know what to say. Funny, really. He spends his days learning etiquette and making conversations and here he is, unable to start one with the peculiar boy with the pretty red, red flowers.

 

 

The child's eyes flicker to the flowers and he smiles as he asks,

 

 

"Are you curious about these flowers?"

 

 

Kuro blinks and he nods. Anything to keep the boy talking. Anything to make him stay.

 

 

"These flowers are called 'camellias'," The boy begins to explain as he slowly moves away from Kuro's grip and picks a lone flower up. "They have a really pretty and warm color and can survive the winter!"

 

 

Kuro quietly takes the information in.

 

 

(Such a flower can withstand the cold of winter? Such a flower can bloom proudly and beautifully, amidst the harsh biting snow? What strength it must have, Kuro thinks, what power and elegance it must have, contained in its delicate petals.)

 

 

The child doesn't lose his smile as he takes the lone flower and presses it into Kuro's palm.

 

 

Kuro looks up, surprised.

 

 

"Please accept this from me," The boy says, "I have to return to my home soon because Uncle is surely waiting for me, but I would like you to have this flower."

 

 

Kuro holds the delicate flower in his palm and the unfamiliar feeling in his chest grows.

 

 

"Please make sure to warm yourself up as well when you return to your home," the brown eyed boy says and bows before he begins making his way back, presumably, to his home.

 

 

Kuro stands still, watching him as he eventually fades away from Kuro's sight.

 

 

(Kuro tries his best to preserve the unfamiliar, pleasant feeling in his chest and Kuro soon realizes that all he has to do is to think of the child and his scarf and the red flower on his palm and the feeling will return to him, washing over his entire being the way Kuro thinks an embrace from someone dear to him would.)

 

 

Kazuhiko finds him, eventually, and ushers Kuro back into the carriage.

 

 

Kazuhiko curiously stares at the well-loved scarf wrapped around his neck and the flower on Kuro's palm but says nothing about them. Kuro tugs the scarf tighter around his neck and wonders if Kazuhiko would know how to preserve flowers or perhaps to even turn them into bookmarks. If he doesn't know, Kuro decides he'll ask his tutors or even the other servants to procure books on the matter.

 

 

(Kuro wonders about the boy and his smile and his flowers and hopes that the boy has gotten safely back home as well.)

 

 

\--

 

  
Kuro closes his eyes and tugs his hanten.

 

 

Ten years have passed since then and Kuro wonders how the boy is doing.

 

 

(Five years have passed since Kuro's parents had sent him, unwillingly, abroad to complete his studies. Another five years had been spent on Kuro's training in another city as the next head of the family.)

 

 

(Ten years have passed since then, since Kuro and that boy's chance meeting, since that particular snowy evening, since Kuro returned to that hometown. The scarf remains carefully tended to, and the flower, preserved into a bookmark, sits on his desk, often fiddled with on nights like this.)

 

 

(Ten years have passed since Kuro first learned the meaning of warmth and how he associates it with that brown-eyed boy and his smile and his simple kindness.

 

 

How Kuro yearns to reacquaint himself with that pleasant feeling of warmth and kindness. How much he wishes he can see the boy again, if only to thank him properly, from the bottom of Kuro's heart. How much he wants to tell the boy, _you moved my heart with that simple act of kindness, you took my heart into your hands and to this day, I do not regret handing it over to you. Let me see you again, please, so I can properly convey everything to you._

 

 

 

Strangely, Kuro thinks his thoughts are quite similar to that of someone who is in love.)

 

  
\--

 

 


End file.
